


Spare Time

by Neko_Lori



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Lori/pseuds/Neko_Lori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hetalia one/two shots I write while I'm bored, feel free to request a ship. I will add on the ship names while I write so if you've searched a specific ship then... yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spare Time

Matthew severely hated his adoptive father's parties. He only went to France for visiting, but he always seemed to wind up at one of these incredibly boring house parties. Well, they were boring for Matthew... everyone else seemed to have such fun, drinking, dancing, talking. However Matthew always seemed to end up sitting in the back of a room, out of sight, out of mind; and no one seemed to notice, that or they just didn't care at all. It didn't matter either way, Matthew preferred it like this, it meant no one was mistaking him for his brother Alfred, asking him about moose or complaining about his one curl of hair and Matthew having to explain that it would never be straight like the rest of his hair no matter what amazing product he used. 

This particular party was hosted by Francis Bonnefoy himself, Matthew's adoptive carer. The french man had hardly had Matthew around for ten years before he went off to live with his biological brother Alfred Jones, an arrogant, troublesome, annoying brother, but all the biological family Matthew had. Matthew was sitting on a chair at the ball of the main room - Francis owned a manor house, he was in a quite prestigious job - watching everyone in the room. Francis had gone off to talk to people, leaving Matthew finally alone. 

Sort of.

Matthew noticed that for the past hour, a man had been sneaking glances at him. He was an odd man, with white feathery hair that Matthew desperately wanted to touch to find out if it was as soft as it seemed. He had pale skin, and a pretty strong looking build, his face was hard edges, strong jawline, chiseled cheekbones, perfection. But what really struck Matthew was his eyes. They were blood red and piercing, and when he glanced at Matthew his brow furrowed and his smile dropped. It always returned. Always. This man was talking to a large blonde blue eyed man and a woman, who Matthew remembered was named Elizabeta Edelstein, she was married to the pianist Roderich who Matthew had once met while at one of these very parties. 

After an hour of Matthew watching the white haired man steal glances, Francis walked over to the small group and began conversing to them. Matthew watched them all laughing, and once again the man looked at him. This time Matthew upon instinct, looked back. Their eyes locked together in a strange awkwardness, neither one wanting to look away as it seemed, those red eyes pierced Matthew's soul and made him feel so exposed, so known, so out there. The Canadian's heart thumped against his rib-cage, and his lungs took away his ability to breathe the entire time. It didn't last, the man looked away, but Matthew stayed locked onto him. 

Until he saw Francis bounding over and beckoning the small group of three with him. Matthew's heart thumped harder, his breath drew quicker, his body shook - Matthew prayed this wasn't noticeable -, and those eyes locked onto him again, this time with a fire flashing across them, igniting Matthew's brain into a mess of activity. 

"This is my adoptive son Matthew Williams." Francis said and gestured towards Matthew sitting in his chair. "Matthew, this is Elizabeta Edelstein, Ludwig Beilschmidt and Gilbert Beilschmidt." Francis gestured to them one at a time, and when he said the name of the beautiful red eyed man, Matthew stood up. 

"Roderich told me about this boy, but he never told me is name, he seemed to have forgotten it! That and everything about him... But it's great to meet you Michael." Elizabeta smiled and held out her hand to Matthew. 

"It's Matthew. Nice to meet you also." Matthew almost sighed and shook the woman's hand. He shook Ludwig's hand, who's grip was a little bit too strong and made Matthew wince slightly, and then came Gilbert. 

"Francis spoke highly of you. It's a pleasure to meet you Matthew." It was obvious Gilbert was a born and bred German, he held out his hand and Matthew took it. It was firm and hard, like he had practiced the perfect way to grip someone's hand without being too soft or too hard, something Matthew wished Ludwig had learnt. Matthew expected a normal handshake, but was immensely shocked when Gilbert ducked his head a laid his lips on the back of Matthew's hand. They were soft and lingered for a second before he straightened and stared down at Matthew with those fiery eyes, Matthew's breath had caught in his throat and he was unable to talk, completely speechless. Blood rushed to Matthew's cheeks and he tried to swallow, finding his throat to be dry. Francis chuckled, drawing their eyes from each other and to him. 

"My boy is very shy Gilbert. Be very careful with his breathing, you may take it away from him." Gilbert dropped Matthew's hand and grinned devilishly. 

"Not worried about what I'll do to your son Francis?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"I know I can do much worse to anyone than you can. Your charm comes no where near mine Gilbert Beilschmidt." Francis glanced between Gilbert and Matthew, then turned on his heel and beckoned Elizabeta and Ludwig to follow him. Ludwig said something to Gilbert in German, but he waved Ludwig away and returned his eyes to Matthew. 

"You are nothing like Francis." Gilbert's devilish smile dropped to a small smirk.

"I was mainly raised by this English man named Arthur and my biological brother Alfred. But Francis is still my carer technically."

"I heard about everyone saying how much you look like Alfred but I really don't see it." 

"You don't?" Matthew didn't believe him. When Matthew first met Alfred, he was amazed at the resemblance. Gilbert's lips tugged upwards and he lowered himself to Matthew's ear. 

"You're so much cuter." His voice was suddenly deep, and his hot breath against Matthew's ear sent shivers down his spine. Without thinking Matthew grabbed Gilbert's shirt to try and push him away, but his arms were too weak for this built German. "You're much cuter blushing however." Matthew gasped and went backwards, the back of his knees hitting the chair, and he fell backward onto the seat. Gilbert's face lit up into a smug smile. It almost made Matthew mad to know he was blushing like crazy and falling over because of one sentence about clothes. 

"I-I have to use the toilet." Matthew squeaked and rushed off outside into Francis's garden. He let out a breath of relief. Gilbert was doing strange things to Matthew's heart, and he didn't want to give in. Everyone forgot about Matthew. This Gilbert would forget about him after this night. Just like everyone else in Matthew's life did. No one ever remembered his birthday, or to send him a Christmas card, nobody every remembered, he faded into the background, and by God Matthew refused to have this man break his heart by using him and then leaving him. He may be the most beautiful man Matthew had even seen, he may have been so charming and made Matthew's knees feel weak, but the heart break wasn't worth it. This wasn't forever, Matthew knew that, it wasn't a fairy tale love at first sight kind of realisation, it was merely one of this Gilbert's little endeavors, if he spoke to Francis like he did, they both acted the same, which meant that Matthew had no chance of this man ever ever-

"Unless you're gonna piss on a tree, this isn't where people go to the toilet." Gilbert's voice was clear as day and had hints of amusement in his tone. Somehow, it made Matthew burn with sadness. 

"Isn't it clear that I obviously don't want you near me then?" Matthew snapped, sometimes when he did snap, he could make Alfred cry, which wasn't good because Alfred used to cry to Arthur all the time and that was extremely troublesome. Silence, Gilbert said nothing, Matthew thought he had left. That the rejection drove him away. The thought both stung Matthew and relieved him. Until he was spun around to stare into those ruby eyes, the firm hands on his shoulders keeping him from running away. 

"You are exactly as Francis said. Shy, sensitive. What upset you?" Matthew scowled and brushed Gilbert's hands from his shoulders. 

"You're not special." Matthew huffed. "You're just out for a good time. Don't pretend to care and then forget about me two hours later." Gilbert looked taken aback, and Matthew regretted his words for a few seconds, until he remembered how true they were. 

"I don't think I understand what you're saying Matthew." Gilbert said with a raised eyebrow. 

"Forget about me. Everyone does it, my parents, my brother, my 'friends'. So go add to the numbers wondering who the hell Matthew Williams is and why he looks so much like Alfred Jones." The Canadian turned back around so he wasn't looking at Gilbert and almost let tears spill over his face. He heard the footsteps of the German slowly receding inside, and he let himself fall and break. He couldn't stop them now, the truth of his entire life laid on the table, the amount of times he tried to convince himself that he was remembered, gone. The amount of times he made a friend and tried to contact them but they had forgotten about his existence, his only emotional outlet being with Francis and his Cuban friend of whom he only sees once every few years. He just couldn't take it anymore. 

His nose was touched with something cold and he choked on his sobs, opening his watery eyes and looking at Gilbert, kneeling beside him holding out one of the pots of vanilla ice cream Francis had out for the guests. Matthew had an undying weakness for ice cream, but his sour feeling wouldn't go away, so he just wiped away the spot of ice cream at the end of his nose and looked away from Gilbert. 

"People are so crazy to forget about you Matthew Williams. I promise I won't ever forget about you. Ok?" Gilbert said, Matthew reluctantly looked at him, and his emptiness became something else, burning in his soul, still burning from that stare when he saw those flames light in Gilbert's eyes, he saw them yet again, shining just as bright, with that intense fire within. Matthew immediately trusted him. He reached out and took the ice cream, grinning slightly. 

Nobody ever remembers my first name, let alone last. Everyone thinks it's Jones because of Alfred and us being brothers and what not, or Bonnefoy because of Francis." Matthew thought for a second and frowned. "How did you know my last name?"

"It was written on the label of your hoodie." The two continued to talk about things not really relevant at all, just things, Matthew found comfort in the sound of his voice, the soft German accent, the man had a very odd laugh, sounded like a snake was choking... but Matthew thought it was amazing. The conversation went on for hours until Francis walked out and pronounced it to be midnight, and almost time for the party to finish. The Frenchman snuck a wink at Matthew and went back inside. 

"Gimme your phone." Gilbert said, making it sound like an order. Matthew obliged, fishing his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to Gilbert. The German typed in something, grinned, and handed the phone back. "Call me later so I can add your number, I left my phone at the hotel."

"And you're positive you won't forget who I am?" Matthew said cautiously. 

"How could I forget someone as interesting as you Matthew?" Gilbert smirked. Matthew's lips curled upward as he gazed at Gilbert's face, hardly noticing how close he was getting until their faces met at their smiles, intertwining their lips in a slow dance, it was soft and hard at the same time, bruising and gentle. It made Matthew's heart thunder against his ribs, it was as if Gilbert had an electrical charge and when he connected to Matthew, it lit his body into overdrive. Gilbert's hand went to the back of Matthew's neck and gently pushed him closer until the Canadian was forced to part his lips for room, allowing Gilbert's tongue to slide into his mouth, it wasn't a fight for dominance or a surprise, it flowed so easily into such a deep kiss, Matthew gradually relaxed and the two broke apart, gazing at each other with the utter certainty that neither would ever, ever forget each other. 

And thus it was the greatest night of Matthew's life.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to request any ship in the comments!


End file.
